


Things Changed

by demons_n_daydreams



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, My writing is absolute shit, Not!Fic, Someone stop me, Wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demons_n_daydreams/pseuds/demons_n_daydreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>And then things changed.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Changed

**Author's Note:**

> Give me some love on [tumblr!](www.diehard-destiel.tumblr.com)

Despite what the entire school thought (and probably what Stiles thought himself), Lydia Martin was _not_ oblivious or unaware of Stiles Stilinski. There weren’t a lot of things that Lydia was oblivious or unaware of at all, really.

Sure, in the beginning, all he had been was the strange, annoying, twitchy boy with the puppy of a best friend. But things changed when Stiles’ mother died.

He was quiet, all of a sudden. Not strange for a young boy when he loses his mother. He was only ten, after all. But something about it was wrong: so wrong it was almost frightening. Stiles, whose mouth never stopped rambling, limbs flailing, was all too still and his mouth was set in a tight, straight line. One thing that struck Lydia through this strange, sad time was that he never cried. She had attended the funeral: everyone in Beacon Hills had a special place in their hearts for the Stilinski family, with Claudia, who was so very kind, and John, who was hardworking and had an endless devotion to his family. Even Stiles, although sometimes teased and not always loved at school, had a certain gravity to him that was unexplainable. He had cried then, silent tears streaming down his face, gripping his father’s hand so hard his knuckles were white. 

She never saw him cry again.

Eventually, though, he began to talk again. But now there was a harsh edge to his humor, and his bright eyes were a little dimmer.

  


* * *

  


All throughout junior high, Lydia was the popular beauty queen. She was always perfectly made up, prim and proper. She had learned from her mother, of course, who was an expert at hiding her marriage problems and tears from the rest of the town with a few sweeps of makeup and a blinding smile.

Then she met Jackson Whittemore.

Well, Lydia hadn’t just met him; she had known him since preschool. It was a small town, after all. But reaching eighth grade, she and him were the most popular, and were, by nature, forced to hang out. But she could see he was damaged, despite his petty bravado and casual smirk. But peer pressure was a strange thing- so they had dated, and their relationship was full of exaggerated displays of affection and expensive gifts.

There were days where she almost decided she couldn’t handle it, thought about ending this ridiculous, over-dramatic relationship. But things changed when they had actually opened up to each other.

They understood each other, and helped each other’s weaknesses. Nights usually alone or at parties with people they didn’t care about were switched to nights filled with laughter and some stolen liquor and kisses and sex and maybe even sometimes love. But Lydia knew they had their flaws.

So when Jackson started tormenting Stiles, she didn’t mention his lingering looks and how when he shoved him into walls and lockers his hands seemed to stay on Stiles’ body just a second too long-

And she also ignored how her own gaze seemed to be leveled on Stiles constantly too, strategically timed for when he and no one else was looking.

  


* * *

  


After Peter, and her whole mess with Jackson and the Kanima, Lydia was tired. Jackson apologized, and then left for London. She never complained or said anything, even though it broke her heart; she had meant it when she said she loved him. But now she had other things to worry about. 

Now that she knew about the supernatural world, it struck her how easily humans could get hurt.

Stiles, in particular.

It was calm for a little while; but things changed when the Alpha pack came in.

Suddenly, Erica and Boyd were missing. Stiles, too, though he had returned with bruises and scabbing across his face. Scott was too busy mooning over Lydia’s best friend to notice, Derek was too worried about his two missing packmates to care; and while he hid it well, Lydia could see Isaac’s distress.

But the Alpha pack, after a bloody fight and a firm talking-to with Derek, had decided that Beacon Hills was Hale land and left, hearing rumors about a large pack in Wyoming with an incompetent Alpha. Erica and Boyd were back safe, and for once the pack could take a breath.

Stiles face healed and he started cracking bad jokes again and showing off his sarcastic wit.

And Lydia ignored the way her eyes watched him and her heart jumped.

And then things changed.

  


* * *

  


Lydia pushed the whole mess with Allison and Scott and Stiles and the Darach to the back of her head; she wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but seeing her friends in those tubs of water, drowning and slowly slipping away had unsettled her.

But then there was something wrong with Stiles, and then suddenly Stiles _wasn’t_ Stiles, he was this thing that murdered and plotted and he was cunning and horrible and _evil-_

And then Allison was dead.

Eventually they got the Nogitsune out of him, but she could see what it had done to him. Scott may have felt the gaping, horrible loss in his chest, losing Allison, and Lydia felt is just as much, but nothing compared to the look in Stiles’ eyes.

They were haunted and filled with fear and anguish and guilt and pain and guilt and self-loathing and guilt and _so much guilt_ Lydia wanted to weep.

But like he always did, Stiles pushed it aside and plastered on an easy smile and lent a comforting hand to his mourning best friend.

And Lydia continued to ignore how her eyes lingered and her heart jumped and her stomach tugged around him.

  


* * *

  


And then it was senior year, and actually, things were fantastic.

Nothing came around to Beacon Hills again, and the pack finally became a real pack, a family. Something Lydia never had. Erica and Boyd were beautiful together; Erica blooming into a strong, fierce woman, Boyd strong and constantly adoring her. The pack would hang out all together some nights, and then Liam was there, Brett was there, even Mason. Malia had something strange going on with Isaac, Kira and Scott were just as disgustingly cute as she predicted they would be, and even Derek had Braeden, who made him less broody. Lydia actually saw him smile freely the other day, sweet and happy. Even Peter, although he made Lydia feel _very_ uncomfortable, had gotten better. He even went to therapy.

And Stiles, damaged, haunted Stiles, was getting better. His smiles were genuine now, and laughs lighter. He finally told his father the truth, making his giant clusterfuck of a life just a little bit easier, their relationship on the mend. The town was safer for it, too.

So life calmed and went on, wounds healing until everything bad that happened was nothing more than bad memories. They had a normal high school life (with a few more claws and _lots_ of teeth-baring).

The pack would hang out almost every night, watching movies, eating, studying, stressing about college. Sometimes everyone would come. Sometimes, the pack would hang out in smaller groups, not everyone at once. Usually, when Lydia studied or did homework, she did it with Stiles. He was the smartest person she knew, and although she wouldn’t say this with a gun to her head, she knew he was smarter than her. He was fascinating; the unsolvable equation, completely unique and strange and _wow she was falling so hard-_

Their dynamic changed too.

Lonely nights in her large, empty home turned into nights of happiness, of laughter and sarcasm and jokes and Lydia had never been happier in her life. Stiles somehow became her best friend; while Scott and Stiles would always be brothers, there was just _something_ about the way she and Stiles acted around each other, a strange tension that wrapped around their easy dynamic. They were powerful together; she could feel it.

She could tell that he made her different. _Better._ While she updated his wardrobe and his hairstyle, he somehow made her relax, calmer, less defensive. On days when her clothes were “sloppy”, they no longer were carefully coordinated to look stylish with a method to the madness. They became too-large lacrosse jerseys with number 24 and BH lacrosse sweats. Her constant need to be perfect slowly lowered, and she realized that people at school seemed to like her better for it. She finally stopped hiding her brain.

But now, with all her walls lowering to him, Lydia could not deny that she was _in love_ with Stiles Stilinski.

There were times when they would just _look_ at each other, lean in. But she would hesitate just a second too long, and she would see a look flash across his face and he would pull away. She knew that after all this time, all these years of him loving her and her ignoring him (thinking about that made her hurt a little), he was waiting for her. He couldn’t be the one to make the first move with the constant fear of rejection hanging over his head.

So tonight, when studying for a Chem test she knew they would both ace, she kissed him.

And it was _fantastic._

She was right. They were so powerful together. Their kiss was a passionate give and take. Their tongues tangled and their hands roamed and next thing she knew, his shirt was off.

They didn’t go too far. This wasn’t about sex. But all that tension and the hormones and the fact that they were still, indeed, horny teenagers, they made out hot and passionate and dirty.

After her and Stiles’ shirts coming off and about an eternity later, they finally separated.

Their foreheads were resting together, and their breaths were coming out in pants, and it was so fucking perfect, Lydia, for probably the first time in her life, was absolutely speechless.

It was Stiles who broke the silence (of course), with a shaky laugh and an equally shaky, “ _Wow._ ”

And then Lydia laughed back and then they were laughing and kissing and smiling.

That’s when things changed.


End file.
